Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Our
second boy (though we didn't know he was a he until he arrived) was
"due" to be born March 6, 2016. His birthday (so when he
was actually due), is April 1, 2016.

Do
you have any idea what our culture... our medical system does to a
woman like me? Ria was born 11 days "past dates," Kat 14
days, Tea 17 days, Jmy 5 days.... clearly, just based on averages, I
take longer to finish my babies than the *system* deems necessary.
GrA was born 3 weeks and 5 days "overdue". That's 26 days
"past dates" yall.

Trust
me. This is very pertinent.

Now,
there's no way I can really adequately convey what I went through...
or my feelings... so that you could actually understand. So I'm
going to try to help you understand by telling you YOUR story. If
you want to understand, you'll have to work with me and imagine...
really try to imagine how you'd feel.

So...
what is THE thing you have most anticipated in your life? It has to
be something that had a firm *finish by* date. Imagine that
experience as I tell this story. Maybe it was the birth of each of
your children... just choose one anticipated birth or other
experience and stick with it. I'm going to pretend it's the birth of
a child because it most closely parallels this since this is about the
birth of mine.

Begin Imagining NOW:

You're
ready! Baby is *due* in 3 weeks and you have everything in place.
Birth kit purchased and items in place and waiting for your fifth homebirth, yep. Baby blanket specially
made by Mama, done. Baby space set up and waiting, definitely. Heart ready to welcome your sixth child, yessiree!

Your
midwife has already started saying little things like, "You can
legally have this baby at home now!"

You
think, "I've told you for the last 13 + weeks about my previous
births... you don't seriously think this baby is coming any time
soon, do you?"

But
even though you know what you know, you still feel a little pressure
to *have the baby* sooner than later.

Midwife
says, "You can have this baby any time. My calendar is clear.
I'm here for you."

You
think and want to say something like, "Um... two weeks til we're
going to see anything... are you trying to pressure me already?
Sheesh." But you stay quiet believing that there's nothing more you can say than you've already said about the subject.

You
feel more pressure and wonder if this baby will be like the last...
who was also the first to be born on her due date. You feel hope
that it might be so.

You
think something like, "Seriously? It's a whole week before my
earliest arrived. It's not likely, lady! We can hope all we want, but let's consider history and figure the odds. I mean, really. Pressure much?"

You
hope baby decides to come earlier than all the rest. It is possible,
after-all. Anything is possible. Surely baby is finished in there... right? You feel ready
to have baby in arms and want to be done dealing with the frustration
of everyone expecting you to have the baby already!

40
weeks. Same as the two weeks before.

Midwife
says, "What are you doing to try to get this baby here? We need
to make a plan to have this baby."

You
think something like, "Yeah... like anything I do will make a
difference. I don't want to try to induce with homeopathics like I
did with two of my homebirths! I also want to respect this baby and
allow the birth process to happen on it's own. Surely I'm not
broken. Surely if we just wait, this baby will come on its own."

People at church who you've never even told your due date ask, "You're STILL pregnant? Don't you want to have that baby? Aren't you going to have that baby sometime soon?" No. Not all from one person. But perhaps it's worse coming from multiple people.

And you think and once even have the nerve to say, "You don't even know when my due date is, for all you know the baby isn't supposed to be here yet." Technically it's potentially true since the 40 week day is Sunday. And the last Sunday you go to church while still preggie because of the following thoughts which torment you, "Maybe they are right... maybe I should have already had this baby. Maybe I'm broken. But I didn't tell them my due date precisely because of this kind of thing. Why do they think I should've already had the baby? Are they talking about me? Only two people in the whole Congregation know anything about this pregnancy. They've probably told others and then they told others.... why do people gossip? And about me! I'm not all that interesting!" And more and similar. It feels horrible!

As a result of the midwife and others statements and questions you
feel something like, "Maybe I am broken. There is no sign of
this baby being born. Aside from the prodromal labor that's been
happening many nights for the last couple weeks. Nothing is going
anywhere, that's for sure. Maybe I am broken."

41
weeks. Same as before.

Midwife
says, "We only have one more week. I won't be able to help you
have this baby if you go any longer than 42 weeks. We have to get
this baby here by 42 weeks."

You
think and want to say something like, "This isn't helping! I
feel like a watched pot! Can't we just let the baby be born when the
baby needs to be born? What's wrong with THAT?!! I want this baby to come . Why won't this baby come?"

You
feel something like, "I'm broken. Surely I am. I can't seem to
have my babies really even around their due date... except for the
last one. Why did it work with that one and none of the others?
What's wrong with me?"

And
well-meaning, caring, loving friends and family are asking about the
baby. You can't help but wonder if they think you just won't tell
anyone when the baby is born.... Do they just think you're leaving
them out of the good news? You think things like, "Don't they
understand that I want to have this baby as much as they want to know
about it? Don't they realize they aren't the only one asking...
can't they imagine how much pressure and angst their questions
compound? Why can't I have this baby like a normal woman???"

During
the process of this week, you lose all confidence in yourself and
your ability to have this baby like a regular human woman because
your midwife and husband seem to have teamed up to *make* the baby
come... Midwife suggests something and husband is the enforcer.
Nothing works. You feel like you are more broken than normal... surely
that's why the baby won't come. And you feel sure that's what
everyone else thinks about you, too. That's why they keep calling
and writing and asking, isn't it? You KNOW that's not the case. You
really do. But the feeling... so many horrible thoughts and feelings about you
running through your head. You know those bad thoughts need to be
ignored and something better put on the stage of your mind... but
they feel so true. And each time someone calls, or asks....

Most nights during this hellacious week, you wake with contractions. A few times you even begin timing them hoping beyond hope that this is it. You go back to sleep thinking that it'll get more serious and real labor will establish itself and wake you up. Then you wake in the morning feeling tremendous pangs of anxiety and panic because you slept SO well through the rest of the night. No more labor. And your children, Mom, and husband look at you with such expectation. And you just want to cry. And sometimes do. And each day you feel increasingly broken... if that's even possible. It is, because that's what you feel!

By
the end of the week you've tried it all.

Sex?
Check.

Nipple
stimulation? Yep. Manual AND breast pump.

Walking?
Definitely.

Spicy
food? Yes.

Homeopathics?
Yep.

Herbal
stuff? Yes. Two kinds.

Essential oils? Uh-huh.

Won't
do castor oil. Causes Mama to poop. Wouldn't it cause baby to poop,
too? And if baby isn't born right away... can't that cause baby
problems? Nothing else has worked, castor oil is just a ridiculous
long shot. There's no way I'm endangering my baby because my midwife and husband are afraid.

During
this week you realize that both your baby and your husband (knew about the husband, but have actually felt it now) are afraid
and you're feeling the waves of fear from both of them as well as
battling your own fear-mongering thoughts.

You
start to meditate to release fears for self and baby. It helps.
Lots. Probably especially for the baby. You feel fewer waves of
fear radiating from your belly. You still struggle with your own
thoughts of brokenness and continue to wonder if you lack the ability to be a
normal woman... especially since you already know you're not just
based on how "overdue" you are.

Husband
has been reduced to tears over this at least once that you've seen.
You have cried daily at one time or another.

You
seriously think you might die, so you start doing things to feel less
fear about that potential outcome. You record yourself singing hymns and
children's songs for your family. You write everyone a letter
telling them how wonderful you think they are and how much you love
them. You pray that you'll just be able to have a healthy live baby and
be alive after baby is born. You still pray for a successful
homebirth... you really do want it, but more than anything you want
to live beyond the birth and for your baby to live.

If
you slept through the night, you wake up crying because you didn't go
into labor. If you had labor and then slept, you wake up in a panic attack because it didn't keep going. You cry off and on
almost all day by the end of the week because nothing is happening
that will result in the baby moving into your arms. But you try to take yourself away from everyone when you cry because you don't want them to worry more than they already do.

42
weeks + 1 day. You let our midwife know you no longer expect her
to come for the birth. She was going to tell you basically the same
thing, anyway. It's the law! Next day you receive a certified letter
in which she is releasing you as clients. So... now you and your
husband are really on your own. And although you're basically okay with that, your husband really isn't. The horrible thoughts come more
fiercely and frequently.

Questions.
Fears. Horrible thoughts of dying or baby dying during the birth
plague you. One day will be peaceful and wonderful... happy and
good. The next will feel like the world is ending and there is
nothing good to be seen. The bad days usually begin with someone
writing a text or calling to ask about the baby and whether it's been born
or not yet. Thankfully the midwife isn't calling or texting every
day now. The burden of that daily check was just way too heavy! You and your
husband pretty much just don't talk to folks at this point, but you
know why they are calling and writing. You are grateful for their love, care, and concern. It's just that the pain of being so abnormal
is almost a physical discomfort for you now.

43
weeks. Baby is still moving regularly and strongly. Surely that
means everything is fine in there.

One of your children asking if
you had any labor the night before causes you to start sobbing
uncontrollably. You feel like a freak. You just want to have the
baby, but nothing is happening. You comfort yourself with every
uncomfy kick you feel. Rejoicing that baby is telling you via the
pain in your body that he or she is still alive.

43 weeks +1 through +3 is a repeat of the first day of the week. You meditate and pray and sing with your whole heart. Seeking with every moment of focused effort to focus on the light so that the darkness will fade. It works. But then you receive another text. Or a phone call. Or hear someone talking about you and the baby. *Freak. Weirdo. You're not normal. You can't have this baby. You're going to die!* Versions of that and more torment your waking hours.

43
weeks +4 days. Lots of labor stuff. But you don't tell your husband,
your Mom (who has been living with you for almost a month now so that
she could be there to help during your labor and after the baby is
born... she's due to leave tomorrow and there's still no baby), any
of your children, or anyone else because it could stop and then
everyone will be disappointed... and you'd be responsible because you didn't have to tell anyone.

43
weeks +4.5 days. Labor still happening, but barely. It's just like
all the other prodromal stuff... but there was a little pink when you
used the potty. Could it be? Won't tell anyone. Don't want them to
be disappointed, too, if it's not.

43
weeks +4.75 days. Labor is probably happening. You tell your husband
about bloody show because you've had it a few times. Contractions
are totally manageable. Definitely like a beginning, but you really do think it's
likely to stick this time.

Labor is totally manageable. It's not really painful. It's just hard work. Focused work. Praying and reading affirmations through each contraction and you feel the work of it, but none of the pain that existed in the previous five labors.

Around
4 hours into active labor waters break and there is meconium.
Pushing afterward results in late decelerations (of the baby's heart). That's happened
with other births... but you've had someone with you who would help
you if stuff went wrong. Your midwives have had oxygen tanks and other emergency sort of equipment. This time it's just you, God, your husband, and
your Mom....

God feels very near. But you feel very confused. The fears that have plagued you are just as present as the feeling of Father comforting you. You don't know what to do because you
can see the fear your husband feels. It's in his body and all over
his face. Before this point at which you hear that you can't hear the baby's heart strong and sure... You've felt like pushing wasn't working. Something just feels WRONG.
Now, after each push, baby's heartbeat is more and more difficult to
find until you can't find it after the last effort to push... you
don't want to kill your baby trying to get him/her out at home!

All
urge to push vanishes. You don't even feel contractions any more.

You
and your husband decide to go to the hospital. As soon as you make that decision, the confusion abates and the comfort of the Lord is all you can feel. You feel one
contraction during the drive. Once you arrive, to the hospital, you sorta feel
contractions, but they aren't very painful... except when you feel the
fear that bangs at the edges of your mind. As they rush you down the hall in the wheelchair, you cry out from the fear more than any physical pain. The fear welcomed you in the stern unkindness of the nurse that greeted you at the emergency room door.

It seems like you feel
fear until just before a contraction and then it fades to the edges.
So, there is only pain when there is no contraction. There is no
urge to push with the contractions. Something is WRONG. This is not like me at all. Normally I feel urgency to push. I feel a comfort and enjoyment in pushing.

The
doctor has really horrible bedside manners. He probably thinks
you're an idiot homebirther who couldn't do it.... like most of them
(in his estimation). He doesn't know you had a natural hospital birth with the first and four successful homebirths after that. He tries to get you to push and you do try, but
it's not working. Something is wrong. It's not working. It just
feels wrong.

After
maybe about an hour at the hospital, you're taken to the operating
room for a c-section. Everything feels surreal. Yet even though you feel otherworldly, you feel the Peace that surpasses all understanding. You feel comfortable even in horribly uncomfortable circumstances. Why isn't it
working this time? You've given birth naturally five times. The
last four of those at home. What's wrong?

The
baby is a boy. He is, all of his face that you can see, beautiful!
You send your husband away to stay with the baby. The doctors tug
and pull... and sew you up. Everything went fine. They take you to
your room where baby and your husband are waiting. It's less than an hour between finishing in the operating room and holding your baby... you receive your
baby joyfully and he latches on like he's been doing it forever!
What a nursing champ!

You
nurse your baby for about four hours. He is doing well, it seems.
You are tired and realize you've dozed off a few times only when you wake
up. Baby was born just after 2:30am, so surely that's normal. You're really glad you have pillows supporting your arms or you
would've dropped your baby. During that 4hours some machine or another
goes off a few times. No one comes to check on it. You've been
sweating and it seems to be getting worse. Your hair is wet with
sweat and you feel like it's dripping whenever you run your fingers
through it. You've already asked your husband to turn the AC down
and now you're worried about keeping your baby warm because you can
tell the room is very cool... maybe even cold, but you feel
ridiculously hot and keep sweating. Your husband has asked about the alarms, but two or three nurses say it's fine without checking the monitors.

When
the day nurse comes in at shift change, she bustles around doing something or other
and introduces herself and her trainee. She seems nice. Before she
leaves your room she asks something. You answer and then you to ask about what is bothering you. You start with the way
you're sweating... wondering if it's because of the spinal during the
c-section. She offers to turn the air down. You refuse telling her it's already been done and you're worried about keeping your baby warm. Then ask about the monitor that's been alarming... what
is it for? Should someone do something about it? What is the noise
supposed to tell us?

As
she looks at the monitor thing, she seems to become alarmed. It's
around then that you fall asleep again. When you wake up, your nurse asks if
you just passed out. "No, I just fell asleep like I have been
since I got in here." She seems even more alarmed. Your
husband tells you later that she removed the pad under you and it was
alarmingly full of blood.

The
doctor comes back. He palpates and looked very concerned.

A
portable ultrasound with accompanying tech comes speeding in. There
is a huge hematoma.... Doctor rushes out (apparently to get
paperwork for you to sign). You're not exactly sure what's
happening, but when he tells you he must take you for surgery and
that he might have to remove your uterus, you know it's really
serious. He has you sign papers and you're alarmed that you can't
keep your name along the line... you've never had a probably keeping
words straight. Yet even though you are aware of great concern in those around you, you feel absolute Peace and comfort of an otherworldly sort.

Watching
the lights move by as you're wheeled to the room for surgery, you feel the first discomfort and concern since you arrived. You
talk to God and tell him, "I just want to live. I still want
those twin girls you showed me all those years ago, but if my uterus is taken, I'll take that as an
indication that I'm not responsible for them any more. Please let me
live. Let me see my sweet new baby again. Please let me raise my children!"

You
live. You wake up in recovery and feel so strange. It's very cold, but feels good. They take you to ICU. Melissa as your sweet nurse. You like
her a lot. She's funny. You sleep a lot... like a baby. Many wakings, but falling asleep just as easily as waking.

Over
time, you learn that you received 4 units of blood and before you
leave ICU you will have received 2 units of plasma. You lost a lot
of your own blood, it would seem. You still have all your own parts, though.
The biggest part of you rejoices to learn that you still have your uterus.
A small and very big-feeling part of you shivers and shakes at the
thought of getting pregnant and giving birth again. Surely the twins
you've wished for since long before you first found out you were preggie with
your first child won't be angry if you can't do it....

And
so it goes. The beginning of the horrible thoughts on this side of
the experience. Why couldn't I do it? Why didn't I do it? What's
wrong with me? I've always been a good pusher... but this time I
just couldn't push. Why is that? And so many more horrible
thoughts.

I
talked with my sister. She's 6 earth-years younger than me... but
you wouldn't know it to hear the words of wisdom she speaks. She
spoke light, hope, and peace to my heart and mind very soon after
GrA's birth. Her words did God's work in my mind to enable me to ask
Him the right question. I honestly don't remember which question I
asked that brought the revelation, but it came!

Heavenly
Father showed me that no matter how or where GrA was born, this birth
experience included (as an inescapable part of it) hemorrhaging. If
it happened at home, I would have gotten closer to death than I
did... or maybe died during the trip to the hospital. If I'd
accomplished vaginal birth in the hospital, it would've been as bad
or worse because I probably wouldn't have been hooked up to monitors
and I would've explained away the "symptoms" of the problem
(just as I did even with the monitors). In one of the ways it
could've played out, GrA died. Basically, I came to understand that
as much as c-section is not my ideal birthing method, in this case it
was my life-saver. Not before or during the fact... but simply by
virtue of being hooked up to monitors afterward that a nurse could
check and see that I wasn't doing well.

After
this personal revelation, I have felt a return of the absolute peace
I felt almost the entire time at the hospital. The only time that
the blanket of peace was pierced was during my prayer about my twins
on the way to emergency surgery. That should've told me a huge bit
afterward... but I was focused on beating myself up overmuch.

So...
that's the long of the long of it. I apologize for not writing to
each person who has asked me about stuff. I would like to talk to you individually if you would like to talk to me after reading this if you have more questions. I simply felt unable to share this story to each person in a more personal way. Although I know things worked out the very best way they could, there is a lot of trauma for me to work through. Feelings about certain aspects of the story that I haven't related. Writing about it this way has been cathartic for me and I appreciate the time you have invested in reading my experience as your own. Even now it
has been difficult... cathartic, surely. But very difficult to write. I have cried. I will probably yet cry. If you would like to share your thoughts about this story with me, I will appreciate it more than I can convey. It will provide affirmation that I year for, yet feel rather foolish in seeking in any direct way.

Even at over six weeks postpartum, my
recovery is still in progress. I had nightmares about giving
birth until after I wrote this. That's totally new and very upsetting for me. I'm
working to figure out what I need to do to regain confidence in
myself and trust in birth because I have felt people missing from my family (two little girls, specifically). I feel them. Mostly when I'm trying to make sure everyone is with
me... I feel an absence. You know it. The one you feel when
someone has one of your children for an activity.... I feel that
often and randomly when all my children are with me. I've felt this
feeling after the birth of the last few of my children. I'm grateful for
it. I know I need to get to work so I can be a happy home for them
to grow in.

I
know God carried me through all of everything both birth related and
the difficulties we've had since GrA joined us. I can see it so
clearly... like the single set of footprints in the sand. God is so
awesome! I felt the carrying at times while I was being carried,
too... I just wasn't focused enough to feel it the whole while.

If
you have some suggestions for me, do share. I need to heal. The
rather upsetting (now) thing to me is that while I was still preggie
I kept feeling like the twins would come sooner than some of my
others (they have mostly come two years and some-odd months after the one before
them).... so I feel a need to work myself into mental, emotional, and
physical shape more than I have after any of the others. I feel like
my spiritual fortifications are going along pretty well. I just
don't feel a really clear direction on how to improve my belief in
birth (and self) currently. So, help in that regard would be great!

I
do have Birthing From Within and have started to read through it recently.

I've had a couple experiences with realizing trauma that seems less related to the birth, but is totally connected in my heart/mind. I want to write about them right now, but I feel concerned that this is overlong. So, I'll hopefully share about that really soon.